Part 48: surrounded

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It's still raining when they shrug on their jackets that are drying out by the fireplace. Sofie bounces toward Marko's bike and glances over her shoulder at him, her dark hair obscuring part of her face in a way that makes her look effortlessly disheveled. He wishes he could capture the glow in her face, the way she makes him fall in love with her all over again. As Marko goes to follow her, Max places his hand on his shoulder.

"I have something for you." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the mugshot from the police station. "I figured you might want to see what you look like."

The lack of a reflection only really bothered him when he was first turned. Like everything else, he adapted to its absence. It was freeing to be no longer bound by his own image, not to feel the compulsion to stop in front of store windows to make sure that there's not a hair out of place, or that his jacket falls down his body in just the right way.

He turns the photograph over in his hands and sees someone he almost doesn't recognize staring back at him. A smirk, a blood-stained grin, and a devilish glint in his eyes. It feels like he's looking at someone else that doesn't match up with the image of himself that he's held for so many years in his mind. He didn't realize that his eyes were that blue, or that his cheekbones were that sharp. A smile flickers across his lips and he looks up at Max.

"Thanks."

Marko tucks the photograph in his pocket and climbs onto his bike. The warm familiarity of Sofie's arms wrapping around his waist brings him comfort. The pack takes off toward the hotel, careening down empty roads. Water mixes with motor oil on the pavement, leaving a multicolored sheen that guides them toward Hudson's Bluff. The rain is softer now and feels good on his skin. There's no sense of urgency, they're just cruising, completely at ease. He races Paul for a while, at Sofie's insistence. When they get back to the hotel, Paul and Dwayne park themselves on the sofa while David plucks a book from one of the many piles littered throughout the cave and flops down in his wheelchair throne, an unlit cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. Marko can hear Laddie laughing from his room and Star's soft voice reading to him. He takes Sofie's hand and leads her into the bedroom. He watches her change into an oversized t-shirt that sits at the top of her naked thighs. She hurls herself onto the bed and bounces onto her back.

"What did Max give you?" She asks as she twirls her hair around her finger.

Marko bites his lip while his eyes rake over her body.

"How do you look this good all the time?"

"Witchcraft," she purrs. "You never answered my question."

He pulls out the mugshot from his jacket and hands it to her. Her face lights up and she stifles a laugh.

"The blood makes you look kind of hot."

He beams with pride.

"I know."

"Is it weird looking at pictures of yourself?" She asks. Her finger traces over the shadows in the photograph.

"A little. I haven't seen a picture of myself in years," he says as he sheds his jacket and tank top. He climbs onto the bed, his hands immediately seek out her skin. She's so soft.

"Didn't your parents take pictures of you?"

"Those are long gone," he says.

She frowns.

"I have a question."

"I have an answer."

"Why do you show up in a picture and not in a mirror?"

"I actually don't have an answer for that," he laughs.

She climbs on top of him and runs her lips across his chest. Marko lets out a small moan. Goosebumps rise on her skin.

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